


in the business of breaking up

by pixiepower



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: College AU, Drinking, F/F, not quite enemies to lovers but.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 04:32:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17359028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixiepower/pseuds/pixiepower
Summary: Something in Jeongyeon doesn’t want to lose to Nayeon, even though they’re supposed to be working together. She drops her bag into the seat and leans on the back of the chair for a moment instead of sitting. Her curiosity wins out for a brief moment, and she says,  “Why do you do it, then?”“Would you believe me if I said out of the goodness of my heart?” Nayeon smiles that mischievous grin again and Jeongyeon is reminded faintly of Sana’s worst plans. She could rarely say no to her. But Nayeon is not Sana, and her attitude is rubbing her the wrong way.“No, I really wouldn’t,” Jeongyeon replies mildly.•Nayeon is in the service of Breaking People Up. She’ll break up any couple for anyone, and her work has become infamous around her university. Jeongyeon sees a flier for her services, and knows she could never get her best friend Momo to break up with her boyfriend so Momo can date her ever-pining other best friend Sana, so she meets up with Nayeon. They immediately distrust one another, and Nayeon is convinced that Jeongyeon wants Momo for herself. But the more time they spend together the more endeared she is, so.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hiiiii! apparently i write twice fic now! it’s 2yeon because of course it is!! and there is a distinct lack of variety in twice fic and i wanted to contribute. be the change you wish to see in the world, right?? i would hesitate to call this slow burn, but it will heat up – i’d venture to say i’m about halfway done so expect an update soon!
> 
> also, i must extend my sincerest apologies in advance to wonho from monsta x, whom i have to gently toss under the bus for the sake of fan fiction. i’m sure you are a very nice boy!

“Momo’s boyfriend sucks.”

Sana’s head whips around at inhuman speed at the sound of Jeongyeon’s voice. “Why would you say that?” she hisses, holding her purple notebook up to shield her face from the other students sitting nearby in the library and muttering for good measure, “I knew we should have reserved a study room.”

“They were all booked this morning when I looked.” Jeongyeon gives Sana an apologetic grimace, sliding her iced caramel macchiato across the table as an offering before settling into the worn vinyl chair across from her.

Sighing, Sana brings her drink to her mouth with a lazy hand and takes a long sip. Jeongyeon thinks that Sana might be seventy percent coffee the way that most humans are seventy percent water. She already vibrates on a different frequency than every being on the planet; it would, at least, explain her sheer energy. She primly replies, “Well, don’t let it happen again,” before letting out a snorting laugh behind a hand and grinning at Jeongyeon.

Jeongyeon rolls her eyes goodnaturedly and reaches for Sana’s free hand, setting her mocha on the table.  “Anyway, don’t you want to know why Momo’s boyfriend sucks?”

Sana chews on her lip, and then on her straw. “I don’t know, Jeongyeonnie, Momo seems to really like him. He’s handsome, and strong, and has a lot of friends–”

“Yah, Sana! Handsome is only skin deep.” Jeongyeon scrunches up her face in disdain. “And he’s not even handsome. Only if you like the gym obsessed type. He and his weightlifting friends are always taking off their shirts in the middle of campus.”

At the very thought, Jeongyeon accidentally digs her thumbnail into Sana’s hand. It’s a fairly short nail, as far as nails go, but Sana yelps, and a serious-looking boy in wire-rimmed glasses turns his head toward them with concern in his eyes. Sana turns red and waves at him, embarrassed, and he knits his eyebrows together but turns back to his textbook. 

This is the game they play, Jeongyeon and Sana; they’re not gossiping, per se. It’s just that Momo went to her first shift at the fitness and dance center at the start of third year and came back with a boyfriend. That was Momo’s first mistake. 

The second mistake came when Momo came bounding up to meet Jeongyeon and Sana for lunch after their class let out that day. 

“I met a boy!”

Sana’s eyes immediately locked onto Jeongyeon’s, panicked, and the corners of Jeongyeon’s mouth tightened imperceptibly. It seemed that the last and only time Momo had really been happy with a partner was with Seulgi, and when she moved away Momo had moped for quite a while. So it had been a year or so since Momo had “met a boy,” and the last time hadn’t gone so great. (“But Jungkook is so pretty and nice,” Momo had snuffled thickly into Jeongyeon’s sweater. While certainly true, he went to a different university and, worse, had called Momo “Mako” on their second date. Jeongyeon had half a mind to gift him an agenda, since there was clearly a lot on his mind. The whole thing seemed to put Momo off dating for a little while, though, heartbroken as she was.)

But Jeongyeon nodded encouragingly, letting Sana hang onto her wrist with the grip of a boa constrictor, and Momo went on and on about Wonho and his beautiful arms and his abs and his floppy hair, and Jeongyeon knew they were all in trouble when Momo glossed over how her first student-taught dance class went in favor of letting a little giggle escape just saying his name.

It’s not that Jeongyeon hates boys. They just take so much effort to interact with, and she spent enough time in school suffering fools that she decided that university would be the time to end that nonsense. But she’s a good friend, so she keeps nodding and smiling at Momo. 

They find out that Wonho is a kinesiology major, and he wants to be a physical therapist, and isn’t that sweet, how he wants to help people? He’s got such a big heart, and he’s already sent Momo three selfies, and just look!

“Cute!” Sana said, her tone characteristically cheerful but her face measured, her blink a millisecond longer than it should have been. 

That day began a tradition of Jeongyeon being a good best friend and dutiful roommate to Momo, absorbing as much boring information about Momo’s Boring Boyfriend™ as possible, for Sana to pretend she didn’t care about but wheedle Jeongyeon into telling her anyway. Jeongyeon didn’t want to enable her, but she could see on Sana’s face as the weeks went on that every tidbit was simultaneously stoking a fire and dousing an ember. That was the thing of being friends with such a sweetheart. There was a sense of responsibility even when you weren’t the one breaking her heart.

So Sana gnaws, hard, on the straw of her coffee as Jeongyeon tells her that Wonho went to Momo’s last dance class before midterms but spent the whole time on his phone. Sana shakes her head, her eyes trained downward on her notebook, and the wet shimmer clinging to her eyelashes makes up Jeongyeon’s mind on something she didn’t know she was seriously considering.

 

•

The poster reads,

**_“Not meant to be? Help fate move a little faster: BREAK THEM UP!”_ **

A little drawing of two people yelling at each other inside the pieces of a broken heart is printed below the type, with a phone number in a bubble at the bottom. 

It stood out on the bulletin board from Jeongyeon’s seat at the printroom table, despite the board being wallpapered with expired coupons, slam poetry invitations, furniture sales, and roommate inquiries. The light blue of the paper was calm despite its acerbic contents, and Jeongyeon had to tear away the fifteenth layer of art show invitations to get a good look at the whole thing.

It just couldn’t be that simple. It couldn’t, because, well, what kind of a business model is that? Hope some forlorn person gets desperate enough to text a phone number and have a stranger break a couple up so they can date the object of their affections? Most business is built on low self-esteem and desperation, Jeongyeon supposed, and searched the college social media pages for any mention of the phone number.

Scrolling smoothly with one hand, the other absentmindedly flipping through her test copy of this month’s campus magazine, Jeongyeon found a few curious posts, mostly from throwaway accounts:

 _My friend has never been happier. His alcoholic boyfriend is out of his life and he can finally rest and focus on the healthy things that he truly cares about. Thank you!_  

 _it works!!!!! my boyfriend and i have been together now for 3 months after this number helped him realize that the only thing they had in common was sex! and i can do that, lol,_ and the subsequent reply, _ew, i remember how they used to dry hump during physics lecture last semester. i don’t have to carry all-purpose wipes in my backpack anymore, so thank u for saving me money_

Snorting with disbelief, Jeongyeon pushed the magazine aside to hold her phone with both hands. Whoever did this had to be a master of manipulation, or a total sociopath, or both. Glancing at the phone number at the bottom, she neatly folded the wrinkled flier and tucked it into her bag in anticipation of this very moment.

“Im Nayeon.”

The girl extends her hand to shake, practiced, and Jeongyeon takes it uneasily. Her nails are done, the same shade of blue as her poster, with an abstractly doodled design on top of the polish on her ring fingers. Cold hands, but soft. A midi ring on her accent finger.

“Yoo Jeongyeon,” she replies. She pulls her hand back from Nayeon’s and smooths out the flier between them, looking up at Nayeon expectantly.

They organized the meeting to be on Jeongyeon’s turf, sitting in the area within the journalism building reserved for interviews and informational meetings. Which this is. Technically. Just… a weird one. The added benefit of having home field advantage is not lost on Jeongyeon, and it reassures her even as the back of her neck prickles under Nayeon’s focused gaze. A slow smile creeps across Nayeon’s face, and the way her front teeth and soft cheeks work together make her look cherubic and innocent despite the hint of trouble twinkling in her eyes. She steeples her fingers evenly, and Jeongyeon’s eyes flick down at the gesture.

“Tell me about your friend.”

Alarm bells start to ring in the back of Jeongyeon’s head. This is her last chance to back out before things go too far, before she gives away all her secrets and does something overprotective and uncharacteristically selfish. But she isn’t known for doing things by half, and the charitable side of her bids her to think of Sana when she starts simply, “Momo dances.” 

Nayeon raises a carefully arched eyebrow, and Jeongyeon quickly backtracks, waving her hand for emphasis. “She studies dance. Her boyfriend is boring and inattentive.”

Sighing, Nayeon splays her hands flat on the low coffee table, leaning forward conspiratorially. “Yoo Jeongyeon, you have just told me the tragic story of every beautiful girl at this school who dresses like it’s MAMA every day and is way too good for her sad boyfriend, who only wears graphic tees and thinks a date is buying her an energy drink at the cafeteria that he ends up drinking. I need more.” 

She has a point. Jeongyeon sits up straighter, challenging Nayeon’s confident posture. The way Nayeon refuses to break her gaze causes something like competition to settle in the pit of her stomach. She tugs the front of her coat down, smoothing out the wrinkles, as if to cover the feeling up. How much does she need to reveal?

“Momo and I have lived together since our first year. She’s had boyfriends before, but she doesn’t usually act like this. The only thing she talked about all summer was getting chosen to lead a dance class at the fitness center, and it’s like she doesn’t even care anymore,” Jeongyeon sighs defeatedly. “I just worry that he’s a bad influence.” It almost sounds stupid now that she says it out loud. At least she has the sense to leave Sana out of it.

Nayeon, unbelievably, lets Jeongyeon finish trying to explain the situation before she starts laughing, not even bothering to hide it behind a hand. “And how long have you been in love with Momo?” she asks.

Jeongyeon’s face heats up as she stands suddenly, muttering, “This was a mistake,” roughly grabbing the papers strewn about the table and straightening them into a pile before starting to tuck them into her bag. This girl couldn’t possibly be serious about this, and it was absurd of Jeongyeon to even have thought this would work.

“Wait, wait, wait, Jeongyeon–”

Glaring, Jeongyeon fixes Nayeon with her most withering stare, willing herself to look tough. “If this is your business model, I’m shocked that you’ve made any money.”

Nayeon rolls her eyes and sits back in her chair. “I don’t do this to make money. You never asked me my fee. I wouldn’t go so far as to call it charity work, but I guess it would be a surprise to you that I do this for free.” 

Free? Some of the posts on the university page had called Nayeon charming and charismatic. Charismatic, sure, in the way that serial killers are charismatic. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.

Jeongyeon is still standing, she realizes, but something in her doesn’t want to lose to Nayeon, even though they’re supposed to be working together. She drops her bag into the seat and leans on the back of the chair for a moment instead of sitting. Her curiosity wins out for a brief moment, and she says,  “Why do you do it, then?”

“Would you believe me if I said out of the goodness of my heart?” Nayeon smiles that mischievous grin again and Jeongyeon is reminded faintly of Sana’s worst plans. She could rarely say no to her. But Nayeon is not Sana, and her attitude is rubbing her the wrong way. 

“No, I really wouldn’t,” Jeongyeon replies mildly. “Look, I care about her. No hard feelings to Wonho, but he is not Momo material.”

“Really?” asks Nayeon plainly, and Jeongyeon feels indignant on behalf of Momo, who would probably not even approve of her being here or doing this, but whose honor she feels the need to defend anyway.

Grumbling, Jeongyeon withdraws her cell phone from her bag and pulls up a photo of Momo that she took last year after her last dance competition of the season. Momo’s long hair is pulled back in a high ponytail, and there’s a sheen of sweat on her face and collarbones, but her face is shining with joy. Her camouflage pants are slung low across her hips as she holds the winning trophy high. It’s a perfect picture, and Sana had nearly combusted upon first sight. Nayeon peers at it carefully, face neutral somehow.

To her credit, Nayeon does seem impressed. At least she isn’t tasteless. Or blind. Or worse, entirely too heterosexual.

Jeongyeon gets another look at Nayeon’s little bunny teeth when Nayeon opens her mouth to say something, but apparently thinks better of it. She lets out a little hum instead, a surprisingly pleasant sound for such an abrasive person, before settling on, “So, let me tell you the plan.”

Jeongyeon says nothing, still petulant, but finally retakes her seat and crosses her legs at the ankle. 

Reaching into her own book bag, Nayeon pulls out two copies of the same document and hands one to Jeongyeon.

“The only way this will work is if you follow my instructions exactly,” Nayeon explains.

“What is this, a heist movie? These are my friends, this is our life. Are you–”

Nayeon huffs and crosses her legs at the knee, letting her loafer dangle from one foot. “Will you please let the master be the master? You asked me to do this, right?”

“Of course, masternim,” Jeongyeon deadpans, earning another eyeroll from Nayeon.

“Number one,” Nayeon pauses to gesture to the printout, “The Subject, henceforth referred to as Momo, must not know that I am trying to break up her relationship.”

Jeongyeon nods. “Sure. That makes sense.”

“Number two, we have to create a rift. Every time Subject B, the boyfriend, does something wrong, you need to emphasize it with Momo. My specialty is chipping away at their perceived compatibility, especially on the boyfriend’s side. But wherever they differ in opinion, or whenever she has a little complaint, is the prime moment for you to act.”

“Me?” Jeongyeon’s voice comes out louder than it was supposed to, and she can feel her nails dig into the paperwork she’s clutching. The whole thing is really toeing the line between being protective and being invasive, which is usually Jeongyeon’s sweet spot, but even so, the more involved she gets, the harder it’s going to be to keep her cool, and her friendship with Momo is too important to lose.

Shooting her a dry look, Nayeon says, “Of course, you. I don’t know Momo, and it would be weird for me to suddenly appear in her life just to criticize her boyfriend, as fun as that sounds.”

Jeongyeon lets out a huffy noise. She hates the smug look on Nayeon’s face, but grits her teeth and mutters, “Fine.” 

“However, there is number three,” Nayeon says airily, “Which states that I do need to be invited on essential outings in order to keep up with the progress of my work. Birthdays, finals study sessions, anything important enough for a large group to get together.”

To tell the truth, Jeongyeon feels that this whole thing is a little convoluted. She doesn’t trust Nayeon as far as she can throw her, but even so, the fact that she’s a little out of her depth on the breakup front makes Nayeon’s help feel a little essential. Things usually charted their own course for her friends, and Jeongyeon was there to pick up the pieces for them if they didn’t work out, but her own relationship experience left something to be desired. Crushes, sure, plenty of them, kisses and harried makeouts. She spent the summer before university fooling around with Hyojung. But matchmaking, and whatever this… inverse of matchmaking is? Definitely not. 

She lets her eyes wander over the words on the document, not absorbing anything, until she startles at the feeling of Nayeon’s cold hand on her knee.

“You’re being a good friend,” Nayeon confirms, a steely look in her eye despite her comforting tone, and Jeongyeon wonders how often she convinces people to do the wrong thing, because it works. 

“Okay.”

And she signs on the line at the bottom of the page.

 

•

 

Nayeon slides into her seat next to Mina just as the psychology professor opens the lecture presentation, flashing a cheesy grin in response to Mina’s exasperated look. Not a minute too soon, as always.

“One of these days he’ll actually take attendance and you’ll be in trouble,” Mina warns, no real sharpness to her voice.

Shrugging, Nayeon pulls her notebook out of her bag. “I’ll take that chance. Besides,” she whispers, “It was for a project thing.”

Mina sighs, rubbing her temples the way she always does when Nayeon talks about her project, but hands her a pen anyway. She appreciates the fact that Mina knows her well enough by now to bring a spare pen and to let her have her passion project.

Well, it isn’t solely for passion. Nayeon surmises that people would likely be surprised that she’s a good student. Or, at least she is now that she’s taking classes within her field of study and really buckling down on psychology.

That’s how the breakup business thing began, sort of. Her advisor last year told her to find strengths and weaknesses in order to succeed, so Nayeon took it a little more literally than expected and started a list. Her little blue journal filled up quickly with her observations from campus, both good friends and virtual strangers alike. 

_Jennie Kim — Strengths: joyful, determined, involved. Weaknesses: short temper, works too hard._

_BamBam from Statistics — Strengths: loyal, stands up for what he believes in. Weaknesses: can be blunt for the sake of it._

_Myoui Mina — Strengths: considerate, practical, dependable. Weaknesses: self-serious, can be withholding._

(“That’s so rude! And not true,” Mina had complained, but Nayeon noticed that after she started the list, she started to share a little more openly during their study sessions. She has grown to know when Mina’s older brother is in town, that she drinks her coffee black, her roommate’s name is Sana, and that her favorite penguin at the zoo is called Pororo like the cartoon character, among other things. Mina’s details are soft like she is, and there is something rewarding about having earned them.)

Nayeon’s name is at the top of her list, but the lines following are blank. She’s keenly aware of her flaws and doesn’t care to dwell on them, at least as much as physically possible. Not a super healthy perspective, she knows, but. It is much easier to focus on the personal failings of others, and study intimately what brings people together and tears them apart. 

She barely knew the first couple she broke up. They had been canoodling every day in the main square on campus in front of the bookstore for a week when she realized they were not a good fit for one another. Nayeon was pretty sure everyone realized they were not a good fit for one another in those final moments, because what had started as a makeout session by the fountain had ended with the petite blonde girlfriend getting pushed in the fountain as a “prank.”

All it took was an innocuous comment. “She didn’t seem to find it funny.” The boy had maybe seemed a little remorseful in his head-to-toe Adidas, but rather than dragging the poor girl through more humiliation, Nayeon knew she had to drive a stake through it at the heart. “Isn’t this what you want to do with your career? Make videos online, go viral, maybe join a variety show? Why can’t she support your happiness? Your future?”

“Don’t let it affect you, though, she might come around,” Nayeon had simpered, a pseudo-comforting hand on his shoulder, and before she knew it, they were screaming that they were through, the girl’s ponytail dripping water as she stomped up the steps, out of the square.

_Subject A (female) — Strengths: patient, resilient. Weaknesses: stubborn, prim._

_Subject B (male) — Strengths: ambitious, carefree. Weaknesses: bad at reading emotional cues,_ very _stubborn._

And so it began, not entirely charitably, but at least beneficial to multiple parties. Nayeon’s advisor had seemed skeptical at first, but the more her endeavor succeeded, the more she wanted to prove it wasn’t just a fluke. That this was something she was good at. It was easy to involve herself in other people’s lives without getting attached if all she was doing was ripping apart the seams of an already poorly-stitched relationship.

“I know you always instigate breakups in your own life, unnie, but must you do it to others, too?” Mina whispers as the professor’s next video link loads.

Affronted, Nayeon responds hotly, “What are you talking about, Mina?”

Mina gives her a long-suffering look, and Nayeon feels her ears pinken. So maybe her past partners haven’t gone the distance, but it’s not Nayeon’s fault. She puts in time and energy, but it just hasn’t worked out.

“I’m just saying that if you stopped picking at people for their weaknesses, maybe you’d find that sometimes those are their strengths,” Mina murmurs.

“The professor’s talking, shush,” hisses Nayeon, tapping her pen (okay, Mina’s pen) against her leg, scratching her thigh at the line where her stocking ends. Just because Mina is dating Chaeyoung doesn’t make her an expert on love. Nayeon knew Chaeyoung first, anyway. Nayeon mutters as much, and Mina lets her, unchallenged, with a gentle laugh under her breath for good measure.

Nayeon tries to be as quiet as possible tugging the latest breakup sheet out of her journal. _Yoo Jeongyeon, for Hirai Momo._ She’s seen this a dozen times, has done this a dozen times, broken up a couple for someone to date their crush. Nayeon could almost call it boring at this point. But something about the way Jeongyeon always had a droll comment, a disbelieving look, and rebutted her every chance she could was massively annoying, and Nayeon never could say no to a challenge.

Mina glances over at Nayeon. “What are you doing?”

Quickly flipping the paper over, Nayeon whispers back, “Nothing.”

The tips of her ears feel warm, like she got caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to be doing (a familiar feeling for someone who was a bit of a class clown growing up). Mina presses her lips together in a line but turns back to her notebook as the professor talks about the midterm study guide to close the lecture. 

“Can I borrow your notes?” Nayeon asks, stretching her arms toward the sun as she and Mina exit the lecture hall. Mina had the neatest handwriting.

Mina laughs. “I knew you weren’t taking any.”

Pouting, Nayeon whines, “Please, Mina-ya? I’ll buy you lunch at the canteen, the sandwich place you like?”

“Already covered, sorry,” Chaeyoung comments brightly as she falls into step with them, handing Mina a plastic-wrapped sandwich and Nayeon a cookie.

_Son Chaeyoung — Strengths: creative, considerate, affectionate. Weaknesses: easily distracted, naïve._

 Something that sounds vaguely like “Thank you, Chaeyoungie” spills out of Nayeon’s mouth, muffled by the cookie bits she has yet to consume. Chaeyoung is scrunching up her nose cutely at Mina, who’s smiling affectionately back down at her, and Nayeon feels soft toward them even as a sort of pang reverberates in her chest.

“Of course, unnie,” Chaeyoung says, taking one of Mina’s hands and one of Nayeon’s. “It might be time for a new manicure. Didn’t I do this a month ago already?” She considers for a moment. “Can I do the next one in green?”

Her eager face is hard to resist, and Nayeon nods, commenting, “But this one matches the poster you did. Will you draw me another of those, too?”

Chaeyoung pretends to think about it for a moment, but gives herself away in the shine in her eyes. “Yes, definitely.” And Nayeon doesn’t know what she did to deserve such good friends, but she counts herself lucky.

 

•

 

Over the next few days, all seems to be going according to plan as far as Jeongyeon is concerned. A skeptical comment here, a suggestive remark there; “Planting the seeds of doubt,” as Nayeon had put it. Jeongyeon tries not to think about how easy the criticism comes to her, and instead focuses on the little things. Like the sweet giggle that floats above them every time Momo threads her fingers through Sana’s when they’re watching dramas on the sofa in Jeongyeon’s apartment, or the pink, pleased look on Momo’s face when she asks Sana about her new dress. It’s easy to be happy for them, and it almost assuages the guilt she feels for hurting someone else. Almost.

So on Wednesday when Momo flops onto her bed with a dramatic groan, Jeongyeon yanks her earbuds out with a tug, swiveling her chair away from her study guide-strewn desk to face her. “Momo-ya, what is it?”

“Nothing,” hums Momo, but the way one hand is tugging at one of her sporty braids and the other is clutching her cell phone (along with her theatrical entrance) indicates otherwise.

Glancing at her own phone from across the room, facedown on her bedside table, Jeongyeon asks, “Did I miss a text? Let me see.”

She gestures for Momo to hand her her phone, and Momo pulls it toward her chest protectively. “No, it’s not that,” she starts uneasily, voice pitching higher at the end of the phrase.

Jeongyeon softens and scoots her chair closer to her bed, brushing Momo’s loose bangs out of her eyes. “Yes?”

Momo sighs and rotates her body so she’s on her back, staring up at the ceiling. Her dance leggings have a criss-cross detail along the side seam, and the busy pattern blends into Jeongyeon’s bedspread the same way it has for the past two years. It comforts Jeongyeon, knowing that she and Momo have this easy relationship, a routine that they can rely upon even when life becomes stressful. 

“Wonho sent me a selca today.” Momo smiles softly, and Jeongyeon’s eyes flick guiltily to where her breakup paperwork is tucked into her desk drawer. 

“Oh? Is that all? Doesn’t he do that every day?” asks Jeongyeon, trying to keep her tone even. She thinks of Nayeon’s instructions and adds, “You know, I really like how he keeps it simple with you. Why say more if it isn’t going to mean anything? They say a picture is worth a thousand words, right?”

Laughing, Momo turns her head to face Jeongyeon. “That’s right. Conversation is overrated.”

Momo’s laugh makes Jeongyeon laugh, too, as she presses, “Nobody tell Sana. She could think of something to say in an empty room. And it would be sweet, somehow.” She was laying it on a little thick, she could tell, but Momo didn’t seem to notice.

“Sana really is the sweetest,” Momo agrees, pressing a button on her phone to wake up the screen. “But I was meaning to tell you, Jeongyeonnie…” She trails off, forming a thought using almost all the muscles in her face.

“Hm?” Jeongyeon rests her elbows on the bed, causing Momo to sit up properly, cross-legged.

Momo sets her phone down and runs her thumb along the bottom of her braid, the way Jeongyeon, Momo, and Sana test the little makeup brushes on the display shelves at the beauty store. It’s unlike her to be so coy about something important, and Jeongyeon starts to feel uneasy. Has she been found out so quickly?

She begins rehearsing a profuse apology in her head until Momo says, “Wonho’s roommate is graduating early at the end of the semester and will be moving out that week.” Momo pauses, eyes down at her phone on the duvet, before looking up hopefully at Jeongyeon. “He asked me yesterday if he could move in with me since he won’t be able to afford rent on his own, and I said yes!”

If this were a drama, there would be a CF break for dramatic effect. Life put on pause for some romantic eye cream and sporty water. Idols in clean-cut sweaters and a catchy jingle. Everything seems to be moving in slow motion.

Jeongyeon feels her blood pressure skyrocket, but she manages to eke out, “Oh, wow, Momo.” 

Momo beams in response. Jeongyeon tries her best to turn her grimace into a smile as Momo barrels forward, “I know! I thought it would work out perfectly since it’s just you in this room and me in the other! He doesn’t have very much furniture or anything, so it would be so easy!”

Jeongyeon thinks absently that it makes perfect sense, that the universe is punishing her this way. Momo has a boyfriend for two months and instead of supporting her, Jeongyeon tries to destroy her happiness. Or at the very least, has thought about destroying her happiness, which is pretty much the same thing. Nayeon was wrong, obviously. Jeongyeon is a terrible friend.

Even so, that thought does nothing to stop the panic from settling in. Nothing will be the same if someone else moves into their apartment, Jeongyeon knows, because for two years it’s just been “Jeongmo,” and a boy will change everything. His boy stuff will be all over their beautiful apartment, and in their bathroom, and in their life. And Sana will have no chance to confess to Momo, and everything will be horrible. Jeongyeon hopes her face isn’t as easy to read as she feels, as she stands to fetch her phone from the nightstand.

“If you think it’s a good idea, Momo, I’m sure things will work out.”

Momo stands as well, throwing her arms around Jeongyeon’s neck. “Oh, unnie, thank you!” She leans in to kiss Jeongyeon’s cheek with gratitude, and Jeongyeon scrunches up her face, trying to dodge her affections but wrapping her free arm to hug around Momo’s waist in return. 

When Momo bounds out of the room, Jeongyeon opens her messenger to send an urgent text.

  _119 NAYEON. We have an emergency._  

It takes only a few minutes of pacing nervously around her bedroom for Jeongyeon to get a response: _already? i’m disappointed in you, yoo jeongyeon. i should have known you couldn’t handle the heat._

Jeongyeon exhales sharply and types quickly, _Don’t be so smug. There are new developments._

 _and you need my help? of course sweet darling uwu,_ comes in next, and it takes every ounce of patience for Jeongyeon not to toss her cell phone out the window.

 _Just meet me,_ Jeongyeon replies, sending Nayeon map directions for the park across the street from her apartment, a short walk from campus. Pulling on a hoodie over her ratty lounge tee, careful not to knock off her silver reading glasses, she slips her socked feet into the slides she left by the door.

“I’ll be back!” Jeongyeon halfheartedly calls out into the apartment, hastily locking the door behind her instead of waiting for a response.

By the time Nayeon arrives, Jeongyeon is tapping her foot anxiously and chewing on her thumbnail, the gel polish all but eroded at the end.

 

•

 

Nayeon spots her from around the corner, and spares half a moment to take in poor Jeongyeon’s disheveled look as she gets closer. Two messy buns at the top of her head, flyaways galore. Kind of cute. Socks and sandals, tragic.

Nayeon sighs. Her eyes move from Jeongyeon’s footwear upward with distaste, gaze catching briefly on the soft flex of Jeongyeon’s thighs in her running shorts. Her leg stops its restless shake upon Nayeon’s arrival, and Nayeon does her best to keep a straight face. “What a sight you are.”

“Save it,” Jeongyeon says curtly, crossing her arms self-consciously. “The boyfriend is moving in at the end of the semester.” 

Raising her eyebrows, Nayeon reaches up and smooths her own hair down. “How did you manage that? I thought the goal was to break them up, not get them married.” 

Jeongyeon lets out one of those little frustrated noises she’s so good at, and Nayeon smirks. Jeongyeon pushes up her glasses, looking down at Nayeon to reply hotly, “Well, pardon me for thinking it was your job to deal with him after you said it was. I did everything in your instructions, but not-so-surprisingly, it didn’t work. Has it ever occurred to you that you might have bad ideas?”

“No,” Nayeon says simply. She rests a hand on her hip, the other reaching out to tug impetuously on the drawstring of Jeongyeon’s hoodie. Jeongyeon takes a step back at the touch, narrowing her eyes at Nayeon, who rolls her own eyes. “Listen, this just means we have a deadline.”

Rubbing the back of her neck, Jeongyeon asks, “So what do we do?”

Nayeon thinks for a moment, turning her face up to look at the apartment building across the street. The Jeongyeon and Momo love nest. Private sanctuary for a hot dance student and Jeongyeon, the world’s most irritating journalism student (which is saying something) and saddest little lesbian ever, if the state of her nails are any indication. The arrangement is adorable, kind of, or at least it would be if Nayeon could stop imagining the kinds of things two pretty girls could get up to in an apartment on their own.

She turns back to Jeongyeon, face resolute. “We go out, of course.”

The look on Jeongyeon’s face is priceless, and Nayeon is almost endeared. Nayeon knows she’s good at teasing people, riling them up, and it’s fun to play with Jeongyeon, who startles and pulls away at the slightest brush of a hand or ghost of a touch. It’s easy to have the upper hand, even when Jeongyeon puts up a fight, and Nayeon loves to win.

To put Jeongyeon out of her misery, though, Nayeon clarifies, “After midterms at the end of the week, we all go out, together. A good group of us, to not raise suspicion, but no boys allowed. Maybe we can plant some seeds of discontent.”

Jeongyeon looks thoughtful at the suggestion, pushing up her glasses again. Nayeon literally bites her tongue, letting Jeongyeon say, “I might know a place.”

 

•

 

Jihyo squeals at the sight of Jeongyeon, Momo, and Sana as they enter the bar that Friday, pulling the microphone away from her face and quickly setting it back in the stand before running over.

“Sana! Momo! Jeongyeon unnie!”

She greets Momo and throws her arms around Sana, who rubs her cheek against Jihyo’s affectionately before letting her turn to Jeongyeon for a hug.

Jeongyeon laughs, setting both hands at Jihyo’s waist above the tie of her apron to keep her at bay, but letting her sparkle up at her nonetheless.

“Hi, Jihyo,” she smiles. “Are the first years keeping you busy?”

Pointing with her whole hand, Jihyo gestures to three girls sitting on stools at the bartop near the just-vacated karaoke stand, the tallest of whom waves. “Chaeyoung, Dahyun, and Tzuyu? Oh, they’re the best. They wanted to come out with me tonight!”

“Well, you are their dorm advisor. I’m sure they didn’t have too much say in the matter,” Jeongyeon teases.

Jihyo had the warmest personality on Earth; doing anything for her could never be much of a chore. She seemed to have boundless energy despite studying both business and music, Jeongyeon had discovered the year prior when partnered with Jihyo for a marketing class project.

(“Do you ever sleep?” she had asked Jihyo, who shrugged noncommittally. “I like what I do.”) 

After their marketing final, Jihyo had taken Jeongyeon with Momo in tow to her place of work, a bar near campus where she was the weekend karaoke MC. With Jihyo’s employee discount, Jeongyeon drank way too much, and at last call she could feel the colors of the karaoke lights warm behind her eyes as she swayed to Jihyo’s heart-wrenching rendition of “I Will Always Love You.” This song was sufficiently sad and beautiful enough to make nearly everyone at the bar want to leave, wet faces sniffling, if not outright sobbing, which Jeongyeon thought maybe was the point.

So they spent every Friday night together, despite Jihyo’s role this year as first year floor advisor keeping her busy otherwise. Jeongyeon felt that maybe they didn’t deserve Jihyo, who always saved the tabletop for them every weekend. Momo was a fan of the ambiance and the flirtation, and Sana could usually be convinced to join once Momo agreed, spending her evening bopping to Girl’s Generation on the karaoke machine with makgeolli fruit cocktail in hand.

Tonight Sana has no hesitation, glittery miniskirt and statement necklace catching the light as she returns from the bar with beer for Jeongyeon and Momo.

“Thanks,” Jeongyeon accepts, holding the glass bottle up briefly as if to cheers before taking a long drink and re-scrolling through her recent messages.

Nayeon had written to say she would be there soon, but the ache in Jeongyeon’s legs from her thigh-high boots is already starting to dull from the alcohol, and she doesn’t know how helpful she’ll be once Nayeon finally does arrive. Which is fine by her. Jeongyeon reasons that it was Nayeon’s plan to start with, and she didn’t seem to like Jeongyeon’s help anyway. Frankly, it seemed like the real game Nayeon liked to play wasn’t called “breakup business,” it was “fuck with Jeongyeon until she reaches the end of her rope.”

About halfway through her first drink and midway through Dahyun’s admittedly hilarious yet technically perfect rendition of “Gangnam Style,” Jeongyeon realizes that someone might ask her how she knows Nayeon, and that she doesn’t have a good fake answer. Mulling it over, Jeongyeon thinks that sometimes the best lie is the truth, and the truth is that she _doesn’t_ really know Nayeon. They have this weird bad secret in common, that’s all. Maybe she can just pretend that she doesn’t know her, and this whole thing can blow over like it never happened, and all the tension in her life will dissipate.  

Wishful thinking.

Jeongyeon is almost to the bottom of her second drink when Nayeon finally strides in, a vaguely familiar-looking friend in tow. The first thing she notices through the hazy laser lighting and her slightly fuzzy brain is that Nayeon looks good. She has these little heels on that make her legs go on forever, and her hair looks very soft. Jeongyeon looks away and downs the rest of her drink.

The second thing she notices is Nayeon’s friend going over to one of Jihyo’s first-year friends (Chaeyoung?) and kissing her on the corner of the mouth in a chaste, but more-than-friendly way. Relief washes over Jeongyeon’s shoulders as she realizes she won’t have to do the whole, “How do you know Nayeonnie, Jeongyeon?” thing with anyone.

“Chaeng,” Nayeon’s friend says as softly as you can in a karaoke bar where two boys (one lanky, one shorter and soft-faced, both beaming) are currently warbling “Nobody” by the Wonder Girls with their whole chests. “Who else is here besides Sana?”

Chaeyoung points out Dahyun and Tzuyu playing pinball in the corner before sweeping her gesture over to where Jeongyeon is seated beside Momo. “Jihyo’s friends,” Chaeyoung smiles. 

Momo holds out a hand to shake for Chaeyoung’s girlfriend. “I’m Momo, and this is Jeongyeon. It’s nice to meet you! You know Sana?” she says genuinely, effortlessly kind as always. 

“Mina,” Nayeon’s-friend-Chaeyoung’s-girlfriend responds, politely returning Momo’s introduction and explaining, “I’m Sana’s roommate. And this is Nayeon.”

At that, Jeongyeon lets herself look up at the newcomers, only to find Nayeon’s eyes already laser-locked onto hers. It takes her a moment to adjust to the ferocity of it in her mild inebriation, and she blinks a few times before steeling her own gaze, silently challenging Nayeon to give away their cards. Jeongyeon doesn’t notice when Nayeon has turned to greet Mina and Sana, and finds her beer empty by the time she looks back up.

“Beer? Really?” Nayeon’s voice is suddenly in Jeongyeon’s ear, and the surprise of it sends a bolt down her spine.

Jeongyeon rolls her eyes. “Let me guess, you’re a soju-or-nothing kind of girl.”

The lack of seating on the busy Friday night means that Nayeon has to stand between Jeongyeon’s seat and the wall, and her hand lands on Jeongyeon’s suede-covered knee as she replies, “Shut up.” Jeongyeon feels smug at Nayeon’s lack of a comeback. Nayeon begrudgingly orders a soju, tips of her ears pink, and Jeongyeon laughs as she orders another beer.

“I didn’t know Sana and Mina lived together,” Jeongyeon remarks.

Nayeon shrugs. “They get along well, but Mina isn’t the most outgoing, so they don’t hang out much. I think she’s warming up to her, though.”

Sana, darling and devoted as she is, can be gregarious enough for a barful of people on her own, so this checks out. Curious, Jeongyeon asks, “So she and Chaeyoung?”

“That may have been me,” Nayeon admits. “I was looking to do my poster, you know, but I’m a totally shitty artist, so I went to the incoming student fine art showcase last year and I saw Chaeng’s work. She’s really talented, you know? She and I would hang out and work on ideas for the poster, and Mina and I both study psychology, so they met one time and that was kind of the start of it.” 

“So you’re not just a heartbreaker, then. You _can_ use your powers for good,” Jeongyeon teases.

“I mean, I… I guess.” Nayeon seems to suddenly become aware of her hand on Jeongyeon’s knee, because she pulls it back to cradle her soju with two hands. Psychology makes perfect sense for Nayeon. Overly involved but a little on the emotionally detached side does fit the bill. 

Her silence is a little uncharacteristic even in the noisy, hazy bar air, and buzzed Jeongyeon wants to fill the space for the sake of it, so she leans into Nayeon’s side and trusts her brain for some reason and what comes out is, “You look pretty.”

Nayeon’s back stiffens and Jeongyeon feels like maybe she said something wrong until Nayeon says, too loud and without eye contact, “I know.” It sounds like it could be confident, and maybe it is, a little, but Jeongyeon, feeling charitable, doesn’t press the matter. 

Instead she points at the tall table in front of the karaoke area, where Momo’s arms are wrapped around Sana’s waist in a back hug as they shout along with the song lyrics on the screen. Sana is wearing Momo’s denim jacket over her glittery outfit, eyes shining, and Momo’s cheeks are a little flushed. “It looks like they’re having fun,” Jeongyeon says, voice straining a little over the din.

“That’s good,” Nayeon says, leaning past Jeongyeon to see a little better. “That definitely works,” she says more definitively, turning back to Jeongyeon.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” she starts, “one of the most effective ways to break up a couple is to drive one party into the arms of someone new.”

Jeongyeon snorts. “Duh.”

“If you’re such an expert then why did you invite me?” Nayeon snaps, tone suddenly hard.

Recoiling, Jeongyeon stands, holding onto the bartop for stability. “I like when my friends are happy. That makes me happy. And for _some_ reason I trusted you to help me make that happen.” Jeongyeon sighs and rubs her forehead with the palm of her hand, pushing her bangs out of her face. “Sorry. I… sorry.”

Nayeon huffs, but looks a little admonished. “Me too.” She opens her mouth to say something else, soft pretty cheeks a little pink from her empty soju, when Jihyo’s voice rings across the bar.

“Jeongyeonnie, sing with me!”

Nayeon’s neck practically snaps with the speed she turns to look up at Jeongyeon, eyes sparkling with mirth. Warmth flushes across her neck as Jihyo singsongs again, “Jeongyeonnie, come sing our song, unnie.”

No one can say no to Jihyo, and Jeongyeon realizes she has a hard time saying no to anyone in her life, now that she thinks about it. So after a series of barely-wobbly steps, Jeongyeon finds herself with a microphone in hand next to a beaming Jihyo, the upbeat opening chords of their song floating tinnily out of the speakers.

Jihyo wraps an arm around Jeongyeon’s waist, powerful voice lilting effortlessly through the notes, and sways through Jeongyeon’s lines. They bop together, grinning through the chorus and pointing together into the crowd, and Jeongyeon is reminded of how much fun singing with her friend can be.

Sana and Momo yell their support at an outrageous volume from four feet away, hands clasped in each other’s like they’ve never heard this song before (they have; Jeongyeon and Jihyo sing it every weekend). Chaeyoung and Mina look cozy and enthused, sharing a basket of chicken wings balanced carefully on Mina’s poised lap, Dahyun leaning over precariously to steal chicken from the basket. Tzuyu is laughing at Dahyun, her pretty and poised face breaking into a genuine smile as she taps the hand holding the ill-received wing with reproach.

And in the corner of the bar several seats away from everyone else, Nayeon crosses her (really stupidly fucking long) legs at the knee, resting her elbows on her thighs with an amused look on her face, big eyes trained on Jeongyeon. Jeongyeon almost misses her next line.

It’s a good thing she and Jihyo are practically professionals at this song, because Nayeon keeps looking at her with that little lopsided smile like it’s a secret, and something swoops into Jeongyeon’s chest. Oh no.

Maybe she’s just tipsy. She shakes her head experimentally during a music break, under the guise of dancing and looking up at the lyrics, but even the pixelated screen that probably hasn’t been replaced since the 1990s seems surprisingly stable. Everything besides Nayeon is suddenly fascinating, and as Jihyo and Jeongyeon harmonize on the last note, she can’t bring herself to tear her eyes away from her microphone, and hopefully it comes across focused, not shy.

Whooping and claps fills the air after the play-off chord, and Jihyo blows kisses to her regulars, swatting Jeongyeon on the butt to shoo her offstage and grinning widely. “We have time for a few more songs, so get your last requests in now!” she announces, and a few of the older patrons jump up to write down their favorite songs for Jihyo at the karaoke stand.

“Unnie, that was great!” Dahyun gives her a thumbs up, adding, “Next time you should join me, I think I’m going to do Bang Bang Bang.” 

Jeongyeon laughs, face still feeling a little hot at the edges. “I don’t know if that’s within my abilities, but sure, Dahyun. You’ll definitely kill it, at least.” 

Chaeyoung chimes in, “Practice makes perfect, obviously. I don’t know how many times I had to listen to Gangnam Style in preparation for today.” 

Dahyun tosses a chicken bone at Chaeyoung, who barely manages to dodge it. “Hey! Don’t give away all of my secrets! I have to be mysterious in front of these new people.” She waggles her eyebrows, bright face cracked with a wide smile, and Jeongyeon, immediately endeared, thinks that this girl’s energy could give Sana a run for her money.

“You’re very mysterious, Dahyun,” Tzuyu reassures her with an affectionate half-smile.

Mina nods in agreement, and Sana strolls over to sling an arm over her shoulders, the other hand holding tight to Momo’s. Both of them look flushed, hair much messier than it was when they arrived at the bar with Jeongyeon, but only Sana is a little out of breath.

“Minari,” Sana starts with a whine, “I’m so glad you’re finally meeting my friends! I’ve been trying to get you to come out with us all year.”

Mina blushes, and Jeongyeon doesn’t miss how her hand grips Chaeyoung’s a little tighter. “Thank you. It’s been very fun, actually.”

“Yes, it really has,” Nayeon confirms, appearing next to Jeongyeon again. She’s wearing heels; how can she be stealthy and fast? One of her hands plays absentmindedly with the hem of Jeongyeon’s dress, flipping a sequin up and down on its thread, and Jeongyeon tries not to track the movement with her eyes or think about Nayeon pressed up against her side, murmuring in a low voice, “I liked your song.” 

“Thanks,” Jeongyeon says unevenly, reaching for a chicken wing from Mina and Chaeyoung’s basket when Tzuyu holds it out in offering.

Holding Sana’s hand against her face, Momo sighs dramatically, “I never get tired of you and Jihyo singing, unnie. Maybe next week Sana will finally sing with me. Hmm?”

Sana pouts, “You never asked!” 

Laughing, Momo kisses Sana on the cheek. “Okay, jjing-jjing-i.”

“I do not whine,” Sana whines, the corners of her mouth quirked up as if she’s fighting a smile.

Jeongyeon turns a little and catches Nayeon’s quirked eyebrow and smile from close quarters, making a positive face in return. Good developments, at least, are starting to be made.


	2. if you’re guilty and you know it put your hands up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and part 2 to close it out! thanks for sticking with me and letting me work this out whole little journey of uncommunicative lesbians with big crushes on each other! chapter title is from “fast talk” by houses, and is a great line from a song that doesn’t go with this fic at all, ha.
> 
> in this chapter there are only a couple of idol mentions: chan (dino) from seventeen, and saerom from fromis_9! my tiny children.
> 
> enjoy!

Jeongyeon and Nayeon spend the next morning texting. Strictly business, Nayeon would lie, if anyone knew that she was even doing it, and it certainly starts that way. They have to debrief after the karaoke bar, of course, but Nayeon spends practically twelve hours staring at the open Kakao thread thinking of what to say. Opening the refrigerator with one hand, phone glued to the other, she’s all but given up until a meme pings in with the caption, _You, kekekeke._

Nayeon startles, and her cell phone clatters onto the kitchen floor.

Mina yells, “You okay, unnie?” from the living room, where she is refreshing the class website in the hopes that the midterm exam grades are posted.

“Good!” Nayeon shouts back, lunging for her phone and letting the refrigerator door close behind her. The screen is intact, thank God, but her fingerprint takes a few tries to unlock properly.

The gif that plays is of a grey bunny refusing a carrot, its fluffy little face as indignant as a rabbit face can be. Biting her lip, Nayeon types back rapidly, _a bunny? i know i’m cute but u don’t have to be so obvious about it :p_

 _Don’t flatter yourself, Nayeon._ reads the next message, the immediate reply swooping into her inbox as a tight feeling swoops into her chest. It’s easy to be flippant via text, but there is something strangely exhilarating about the eyeroll emoji that follows Jeongyeon’s blithe message. Nayeon hoists herself onto the counter, kicking her feet back and forth.

 _well, at least i didn’t look like this yesterday,_ she sends, attaching a video meme, an idol fancam with an exaggeratedly wide mouth and a high-pitched note practically shredding the tinny speaker in her phone.

 _Fucking rude,_ replies Jeongyeon, and it makes Nayeon laugh out loud. Her thumbs tap across the screen to formulate a response, nails clacking softly against the glass.

“You seem happy,” Mina remarks calmly, and Nayeon’s head snaps up to find her leaning against the refrigerator across from her, bemused.

Nayeon opens and closes her mouth a couple of times, settling on an apology. “It’s… a project thing. Sorry I got distracted.”

Raising an eyebrow, Mina asks sarcastically, “Distracted? By your project? You?”

It isn’t _not_ the truth, thinks Nayeon. She shrugs noncommittally. Distraction came with the territory. She had gone to the gym that morning to flirt with Wonho and it left her feeling a little guilty, especially since that boy didn’t have a cheater’s bone in his body. That she didn’t exactly give it her all was beside the point. Sabotaging her own sabotage? Couldn’t be Nayeon.

When she came home to log her progress (or, rather, lack thereof) in her little brown journal, the apartment felt woefully empty in the midmorning light, and despite the late night prior, Nayeon had found it difficult to take a nap. Mina, the angel that she is, said she would come over, so here she is, arms crossed goodnaturedly in the kitchen. Nayeon doesn’t feel judged, per se, but definitely a little seen through.

So she adds, “I’m not making very much progress with Jeongyeon. Well, Momo. And Wonho. Not Jeongyeon.” _Very_ clear and concise. And to think she isn’t studying communication and public speaking.

Mina tilts her head to the side, scratching her temple with the pads of her fingers. “Jeongyeon from the karaoke bar, and Sana’s friend Momo,” she pieces together, eyebrows knitted questioningly, almost concerned.

Nayeon nods, avoiding Mina’s eyes. Mina has that way about her where you can share the bare minimum about a situation, and she will somehow pick you apart with a look and a word. A natural psychologist, Nayeon thinks regretfully. Great for classes, not so great for keeping secrets from her.

Humming thoughtfully, Mina asks gently, “And Jeongyeon asked you to break up Momo and her boyfriend, because…”

“Because Jeongyeon and Momo live together, and Jeongyeon doesn’t want that to change,” finishes Nayeon, thumb rubbing absentmindedly along the side of her phone.

“I see.”

Mina turns to open the refrigerator and pours herself a glass of water, and the silence kills Nayeon.

Nayeon splays her hands out on the counter behind her. “I’m not in the business of saying no to a breakup proposal. I have to be committed to my project. And Jeongyeon was so infuriating when she made her request. I had to prove her wrong, you know?”

Taking a long sip of water, Mina nods.

“Momo is kind and beautiful. She can have anyone she wants, and Jeongyeon thinks that Wonho isn’t right for her, so she must have somebody else in mind,” Nayeon says, chewing on the inside of her cheek.

“She must,” Mina affirms, the hint of a question. She always does this. Nayeon scrunches her face up in frustration before saying something else.

“What do you want to hear, Mina-ya? That I have a crush on Jeongyeon? Because I’m not going to say that,” huffs Nayeon petulantly. She sort of feels like throwing up now that she said it out loud. Or rather, denied it out loud.

Shrugging, Mina says, “You don’t have to say anything, Nayeon.” She can be so infuriating when she’s right, and Nayeon feels a little tricked. Mina rests a hand softly on Nayeon’s shoulder and looks into her eyes, a gentle smile playing on her lips. “It’s just nice to see you happy. Okay?”

Nayeon places her hand over Mina’s and sighs, giving her a tight-lipped smile in return. “Okay.”

Mina returns to the living room, legs folded like a deer below her as she goes back to refreshing the laptop, and Nayeon hops off the kitchen counter to follow. Her butt is a little numb from the hard marble countertop, and she sinks into the soft cushions next to Mina.

One of Nayeon’s brilliant plans starts to formulate in her mind, and Nayeon goes back into her messages. Erasing the text she was last typing, she replaces it with a request:

_i have an idea. we should go to momo’s next dance class and see if we can get any closer to our goal of [redacted]. u in?_

Mina glances over when she sees Nayeon flop over dramatically onto the side of the couch, but says nothing. Nayeon is grateful, because she thinks Mina might be able to see her tummy flip over when she receives her reply: _I like that. Do you even know how to dance?_

A gif of a bunny falling over appears shortly after the message, and Nayeon rolls her eyes, grinning at her phone. _just u wait and see, yoo jeongyeon._

 

•

 

It’s so early. So very, very early. Jeongyeon yawns and rubs her eyes, stretching her arms over her head as she waits for Nayeon to arrive at the fitness and dance center. She arrived together with Momo – “A quick jog for a warm-up!” she had chirped – and held back to let Momo prep the dance room and to fill up her water bottle.

Sure, Momo is still just a student, but it’s cruel and unusual to make her host the six o’clock Monday morning class, Jeongyeon thinks, rolling her neck to stretch. But as the minutes crawl toward class start, she feels a swell of pride when students start to arrive, nearly ten or fifteen of them, before Jeongyeon recognizes someone.

“Tzuyu!”

“Unnie,” Tzuyu greets her warmly with a hug, somehow looking modelesque at five forty-five in the morning.

Jeongyeon smiles. “Are you here for Momo’s class?”

Tzuyu nods and leans down to tie her shoelaces tightly. She’s wearing Nikes, nice soft pink ones, perfectly matching her whole athleisure aesthetic. Jeongyeon glances down at her own outfit and suddenly feels a little underdressed in her zip-up and track pants, even though Momo had suggested these clothes in the first place.

“I study dance, too, so I like to learn from Momo. Her style is so unique, and I love her expression,” Tzuyu says, eyes shining almost reverently.

It suits her, Jeongyeon thinks, and says, “That’s wonderful, I’m glad! I’m here to support Momo today, but I’m waiting for someone. I’ll see you inside?”

She waves and watches Tzuyu head inside, tugging her jacket down and pulling up the zipper almost all the way once she’s out of view.

“Do you need help dressing yourself?” Nayeon’s mirthful voice says teasingly from behind her. Jeongyeon should probably be used to it by now.

Turning toward Nayeon, Jeongyeon retorts, “I could say the same for you.” Her eyes trail over Nayeon’s outfit for emphasis, and she swallows thickly at the sight of soft thighs in little athletic shorts before quickly snapping her eyes up to Nayeon’s face, where a smirk has all but made a home. She recovers, “You seem to have left half your clothes at home.”

Nayeon smiles mischievously and bumps her hip against Jeongyeon’s. “You love it. But let’s go, we’re going to be late, lazy.”

Jeongyeon mutters, “You’re the one who was late,” but lets Nayeon circle her wrist with her soft cold fingers and tug her into the dance room.

Momo waves excitedly when they enter, pointing to a spot on the side of the room that isn’t too far forward. That’s fair. Jeongyeon is a little out of practice and, glancing around to take stock of the attending students, one of only a handful of non-dance majors who signed up. There’s a decent mix of boys and girls in attendance, slightly younger students and those about their age alike, all stretching along the beam on the back wall or along the shiny wood floor. Leaving her water bottle against the side wall, she beams proudly at Momo. She’s worked so hard, and it’s nice to see that her efforts are paying off.

Facing the mirror, Momo makes quick work of their warm-up, and Jeongyeon grimaces to notice she’s already a little out of breath. Nayeon pats her arm patronizingly, because of course she does, and takes half a step forward to stand slightly in front of her for the first combination.

It’s a little difficult to pick up the fast-paced steps from Momo, even without the way that Nayeon is bodyrolling two feet away from her. It seems kind of fair, though, that this is where she should die. A little irony from the universe, stupid attractive Nayeon helping her do a bad thing against her best friend Momo. Karma may be real.

Momo lets a talented student named Chan lead the first demonstration as she winds through the crowd to help correct posture and give feedback to the less practiced dancers.

“Good, Nayeon!” Momo says, giving Nayeon a thumbs up as she works through a series of steps. Nayeon gives a small smile in return, and Jeongyeon doesn’t miss how Nayeon watches from her periphery as Momo moves onto Jeongyeon’s combination.

Shaking her head, Momo laughs. “I love you, but you’re hopeless, Jeongyeonnie,” she grins, moving in close to help Jeongyeon perfect the movement. She takes Jeongyeon’s hands in hers, guiding her through the next dance move, and they laugh together, dancing loosely through the steps. Momo is a good teacher, and she makes even mistakes feel fun.

Out of the corner of Jeongyeon’s eye she sees Nayeon’s hair flick behind her as she snaps her head back to face the front, following Chan’s lead and hitting the point choreography more aggressively. Momo isn’t that hard to impress, but Jeongyeon figures Nayeon has a plan, like always.

The class winds down after a few more additions to the choreography, and Jeongyeon leans against the wall, taking a long drink from her water bottle and not feeling anywhere near confident enough to join the dancers in the full combination. Chan is especially formidable, despite his adorable face, and Saerom, who Jeongyeon remembers from her interview skills seminar last semester, keeps up with the pace. The whole thing reminds her how much she respects Momo’s work ethic, and how glad she is to be her friend.

Nayeon grabs Jeongyeon’s water bottle out of her hand, taking a swig from it, but adding the personal touch of overly intense eye contact as she does it.

Jeongyeon rolls her eyes. “Gross.” But her eyes follow Nayeon’s thumb as it swipes across her lips to wipe water away.

“I know you are, but what am I?” Nayeon volleys, face deadpan.

Blinking with disbelief, Jeongyeon asks, “Really? Are we ten?”

Nayeon mutters mockingly, “Really? Are we ten?” and Jeongyeon sighs, exasperated.

“Did I do something? This was your idea, remember? If I missed something, I’m sorry,” Jeongyeon says softly as Momo presses restart on the dance track for the next group.

Nayeon seems to be wrestling with her words, and Jeongyeon can see it on her face. All she says in the end is, “No. Sorry. I’m just tired,” as if Jeongyeon hasn’t used that excuse a million times before.

She says nothing, sensing that the conversation might be over. For what it’s worth, Nayeon does look sort of tired, and a twinge of concern seats itself in Jeongyeon’s chest. “Have you been sleeping?”

Nayeon looks the few centimeters up at Jeongyeon, unreadable look on her face, eyes big as she’s ever seen them. She holds out Jeongyeon’s water bottle as if in offering, and her fingers brush Jeongyeon’s when she takes it back, unscrewing the cap again. Jeongyeon lets her body slide just a little along the wall to nudge against Nayeon’s shoulder and drinks more water, and if Nayeon pinkens a little, well, it’s not unwelcome. It can be fun to fight with Nayeon, but this is infinitely better.

So she says, “Can I come over?”

A snort erupts from Nayeon, and a couple of the other dancers look over at her quizzically, one of them with a disapproving glare. She tucks her face into Jeongyeon’s shoulder and covers it with a hand, the vibration of her laughter muffled by her zip-up. “Is that your line?” she gets out eventually, once the students have stopped looking their way.

Affronted, Jeongyeon mutters, “You wish,” stepping on Nayeon’s foot firmly, but not enough to hurt.

“Sure,” Nayeon says, ignoring the comment and pulling hard on Jeongyeon’s sleeve in retaliation.

It’s kind of hard to keep a smile off her face, and when the class is officially over, Jeongyeon gives Momo a big hug. “This was a lot of fun, Momo, thank you so much.”

“Thank you for coming! Would you like to come to breakfast, Nayeon? Sana is meeting me at the coffee shop before class, and I’m sure we can convince her to pick up your coffee, too!”

“No, no, you go! Jeongyeon-ah is going to walk me home,” Nayeon says smoothly, brushing her hair out of her face with two hands casually and smiling sweetly at Momo.

Momo quirks an eyebrow at the two of them but grins conspiratorially at Jeongyeon. “That sounds nice, unnie, I hope you have a good time.”

“Thanks, we will,” Nayeon interjects, tugging on Jeongyeon’s hand to lead her out of the room and intertwining their fingers. Jeongyeon’s heart flutters, and she feels a little betrayed by her own pathetic emotions, but she lets Nayeon yank her toward her apartment.

 

•

 

“You live alone?” Jeongyeon asks as Nayeon unlocks the door. Today has been filled with far too much exercise, especially now that they have trudged up to the third floor in Nayeon’s building.

Nayeon hums in affirmation, lock clicking open and leaving her shoes just inside the doorway by a little potted plant. It looks like it’s seen better days; half of its leaves are wilting. Frankly, Nayeon doesn’t seem like a real-plant kind of person anyway, so its presence does seem a little pointless. What seems more realistic is the bowl on her kitchen table filled with a mixture that seems to be half peach rings and half unopened mail.

Jeongyeon leaves her water bottle on the kitchen table, and stands beside it when Nayeon walks into her room, unsure if she should move. “How did we do today?” she shouts into the hallway, hoping Nayeon can hear her through her closed door.

“What?” Nayeon responds at a normal volume, walking back into the living room with a different t-shirt on and a little brown journal in her hand. She takes a seat on her couch and looks up at Jeongyeon. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Jeongyeon replies awkwardly, taking a seat next to Nayeon on the floor, her back leaning against the front of the couch. “Ow!” she cries as she sits back on a hard, foot-shaped object that she strongly suspects is Nayeon’s foot-shaped foot.

A snicker emanates from behind her. “Sorry,” Nayeon says, not sounding very sorry. Jeongyeon swats at her leg, peering up at her through narrowed eyes.

“Jerk!”

Nayeon flutters her eyelashes down at Jeongyeon. “I’m an angel and you love me.”

“I wish I had a jar where you paid me every time I have to tell you not to flatter yourself,” Jeongyeon says dryly. “Your vanity could pay for me to get a new computer. Or maybe a new car, at your rate.”

Sighing dramatically, Nayeon leans forward on her lap to position her face closer to Jeongyeon’s. “Instead you should tell me you love me,” she smirks.

Two can play at that game. Jeongyeon reaches up to cup Nayeon’s jaw, tracing a little circle with her thumb under her ear. “And if I do?”

A triumph. Jeongyeon smiles coyly when Nayeon shivers involuntarily, and laughs when Nayeon shoves her with two hands, falling over to the side obediently. “Fuck off,” Nayeon snorts, running her tongue over her bottom lip and rolling her eyes expertly. It’s stupid that Jeongyeon is endeared by it, even if Nayeon might get her face stuck that way someday. It might be worth it if she was the cause.

“What I _said_ was, how did we do today?” Jeongyeon repeats.

“Oh,” Nayeon says, standing up and padding in her socks to the kitchen. “Are you hungry?”

Jeongyeon hums. “Yeah, actually.” She turns her body to face the kitchen but doesn’t get up. Her body is already starting to get sore, and she regrets not working out this semester despite Momo’s best efforts. Maybe she would have found someone to date too if she had been to the fitness and dance center more than once in her life.

“I have leftovers, we can share,” says Nayeon loudly, as though Jeongyeon isn’t hanging on her every word. It’s generous of her, or torturous, and Jeongyeon flushes to think that may hold true in all aspects of Nayeon’s life.

“It’s not Lotteria, is it? I had a burger from there once that I swear took me out of class for a week.”

“No,” Nayeon’s voice rings out, and after a few quiet minutes the telltale clatter of bowls accompanies her muttered, “Shit.”

Laughing, Jeongyeon asks, “Do you need help?”

“No,” repeats Nayeon indignantly, and shuffles back in with two bowls of bibimbap, egg steaming on top. It’s sweet, the way Nayeon hands her the bowl, and Jeongyeon can’t help but smile up at her. She’s definitely smiling too much, but as she shovels vegetables and rice into her mouth, she can’t find it in herself not to.

When Nayeon sits back down onto the sofa, her little journal falls to the floor. Jeongyeon picks it up with one hand, the other holding her bowl with a death grip, and waves the brown notebook in front of Nayeon. She shrugs, a wave of her hand implying something like ‘Just leave it.’ The silence that accompanies their muffled chewing is comfortable, surprisingly, considering how much Nayeon likes to chatter. But the bibimbap is good, and Jeongyeon has always known how to eat well.

Jeongyeon makes a little satisfied sound and wiggles as she swallows her last bite, leaning forward to set her bowl down a few feet away. She looks up at Nayeon and says, “Thanks, unnie.”

“Ew, don’t ‘unnie’ me,” Nayeon laughs around a mouthful of food, trying to cover her mouth with a hand.

Nayeon’s laugh makes Jeongyeon want to laugh, so she does. She reaches over and picks up the journal next to her foot. “What is this?”

“Mm,” Nayeon starts, swallowing to continue, “It’s for my breakup project. If I’m going to turn it into a viable thesis at some point I need to be taking detailed notes.”

“How studious of you,” Jeongyeon says, turning it in her hands. The leather is soft, and the size is cute, very apropos.

“I’ll have you know I’m a very good student.” Nayeon gestures to the bookmark sticking out of the top of the journal, opening and closing her hands like a book. “Here, look at this page.”

She reaches forward and uses a slim finger to open the well-worn spine of the journal where the bookmark splits the pages. Turning past the clipped-in contract Jeongyeon and Nayeon signed, Nayeon points to the header which reads, _Yoo Jeongyeon for Hirai Momo x Lee Ho Seok (Wonho)._ The sheer amount of bullet points and the various dates and entries are a little overwhelming. Nayeon has been doing more work than Jeongyeon gives her credit for, and she says as much.

“Wow. This is impressive.”

“I told you this is something I’m good at. You shouldn’t do things halfway,” Nayeon says honestly, turning another page hesitantly. “You’ve actually been surprisingly helpful.”

Jeongyeon looks up at Nayeon. “Thank you for the glowing praise.” It’s a little sarcastic, but mostly genuine, and Nayeon gives her a tight smile in return, clocking both.

Nayeon sits back on the couch, picking out the meat from her bowl with her chopsticks, legs tucked up against her chest. Glancing up at Nayeon, who is doing something on her cell phone, Jeongyeon reads on. Strengths and weaknesses?

_Lee Ho Seok (Wonho) — Strengths: calm, bright, motivated. Weaknesses: overly sensitive, one-track minded._

_Hirai Momo — Strengths: talented, generous, trusting. Weaknesses: only thinks the best of people._

That’s true, but Jeongyeon wouldn’t necessarily call that a weakness. Momo has a big heart, and it isn’t a crime to hope for good things to happen and for people to be good. Frankly, it’s a little refreshing. Not a lot of people are like that nowadays.

Jeongyeon gets up to retrieve her water bottle and goes to close the journal, but the bookmark slides out quietly, and Jeongyeon has to flip through the pages to find their entry again to put it back.

“What are you doing?” Nayeon asks, voice tense as she notices that Jeongyeon is standing. “Jeongyeon, wait.”

“The bookmark fell out,” Jeongyeon says, pausing when she catches a glimpse of her name at the end of a list at the front of the book.

_Yoo Jeongyeon — Strengths: inquisitive, thoughtful, feisty, cute. Weaknesses: argumentative, too close to Momo._

Weird. “What does this mean?” Jeongyeon asks, despite her better judgement. “‘Too close to Momo.’”

Nayeon blanches, a guarded look coming over her eyes. “Nothing. Can you give that back?”

Rolling her eyes, Jeongyeon asks, “Why is being best friends with someone a weakness? We’ve been close forever, and you barely know her. That’s like if I said you should stop hanging out with Mina.”

“No, it isn’t. It’s different,” says Nayeon, taking several steps toward her and reaching a hand out for the journal.

Jeongyeon gives her a look but hands them over without a fight. “What are you talking about?”

“Nothing, don’t worry about it,” Nayeon says tersely, finding the page easily and sliding the bookmark back into its home.

“Nayeon…” Jeongyeon starts in a soft tone.

“I said don’t worry about it, Jeongyeon!” Nayeon snaps, then sighs. “Sorry,” she says, softer. A pattern they follow.

Reaching out for Nayeon’s hand, Jeongyeon laces her fingers together with Nayeon’s. “It’s okay if you’re jealous. Momo is a good friend, and I get it. I’m kind of jealous of her too, sometimes,” she admits. It’s a little tough to say, but it’s true. She’s mostly over it, but in the early days of their friendship Jeongyeon used to feel very insecure next to beautiful, kind Momo. “So I get it–”

“I’m not jealous,” Nayeon interrupts with a mutter, tugging her hand away from Jeongyeon.

Jeongyeon puts her face in her hands. So much for being kind. “Oh, my God! Acting like you have feelings for one minute isn’t going to kill you!” she insists, trying to catch Nayeon’s eye.

“It might if those feelings are for you!” Nayeon almost shouts, and her face drains of color.

Oh.

Jeongyeon could laugh with relief. “Oh, thank God.”

“I hate you,” Nayeon grumbles, crossing her arms and refusing to meet Jeongyeon’s eyes.

“No, you don’t,” Jeongyeon grins, and puts two hands on Nayeon’s waist.

Nayeon’s eyes snap up to finally meet Jeongyeon’s, soft skin tense under Jeongyeon’s hands. Her eyes are worried, and a little sad. “Don’t fuck around. It’s not funny.”

“No, it isn’t,” Jeongyeon agrees, and leans in close. “Tell me if this isn’t okay?” she whispers, closing the gap.

The first press is soft, testing. Her lips brush against Nayeon’s, almost chaste, and she hears a little surprised noise from the back of Nayeon’s throat. Jeongyeon thinks absently that this wasn’t how she pictured it going, but Nayeon’s hands fly up to grip the front of her zip-up, tugging her in closer, and she can’t fathom how she imagined it any other way.

Nayeon’s waist feels small under Jeongyeon’s hands, and the way she’s pressed up against her is so, so good. The kiss is sweet, but deepens, the sound of their breathing loud in the empty apartment. Nayeon is kissing her back, insistent, brushing her nose against Jeongyeon’s in the heat of the kiss and trying to get impossibly closer. The backs of Jeongyeon’s legs hit the couch, and she yelps as she keels backward, Nayeon’s hands grasping at her back under the hem of her shirt as if to catch her.

“Your hands are cold!” Jeongyeon shrieks, pulling Nayeon down with her onto the sofa. They aren’t lying down, but half-sitting in a haphazard heap of legs and hands. Nayeon is laughing into her ear, a little breathless, and it’s suddenly Jeongyeon’s favorite sound. She wants more of it.

She presses her lips to Nayeon’s neck, who giggles, the sound petering out unevenly as Jeongyeon nips kisses up her jaw. “Jeongyeon, I– oh,” she breathes, fingers toying with the bottom hem of Jeongyeon’s shirt under her jacket.

Nayeon tilts her head back and sighs, letting Jeongyeon murmur against her skin, “You what?”

Her response is muffled by Jeongyeon’s next kiss, and she reaches down for a handful of Nayeon’s butt. Nayeon pulls away, laughing. “Slow down, greedy!” Jeongyeon looks up at her apologetically and catches a fond look before Nayeon pouts and hides her flushed face in Jeongyeon’s shoulder again, declaring, “You’re sweaty.”

“Gross!” Jeongyeon pushes Nayeon playfully, though she’s suddenly a little self-conscious. “You like me, though.”

“Stop,” Nayeon whines, face getting redder.

Jeongyeon plants a kiss on her reddening cheek. It’s like they made out for five minutes and she’s already obsessed with keeping her lips on Nayeon. It would be embarrassing, if Nayeon wasn’t wringing Jeongyeon’s zip-up in two hands, the corners of her lips quirking up. She doesn’t want to break the spell, the thrill of reciprocated confession, instead letting her eyes trail over Nayeon’s bare legs thrown over her lap, freely tracing the curve where her thigh turns into her backside.

“Staring at my ass? You have good taste.” Nayeon says with a grin. Jeongyeon freezes, caught out, but catches Nayeon’s gaze roaming along the line of her body in return and laughs.

“Yeah, but you were the one who confessed to me, so…” Jeongyeon shrugs. “You _like_ me,” she singsongs.

“No, I take it back,” Nayeon frowns. “You are not cute anymore.” Jeongyeon winks exaggeratedly, and Nayeon picks up a throw pillow and tosses it at Jeongyeon, adding, “If you tell anyone I said that, I’ll have to kill you. I have a reputation to uphold.”

Catching the pillow, Jeongyeon nods self-seriously. “I understand. You can’t get attached. You’re the breakup girl.”

Solemnly, Nayeon deadpans, “Yes.” Jeongyeon rolls her eyes goodnaturedly, but Nayeon’s tone stays soft when she says, “I don’t really know how to not break up. So I just… do that.”

Jeongyeon looks over at Nayeon, face drawn and hair mussed from dancing and kissing, and feels a little pang. Nayeon clearly doesn’t talk about this a lot, and her hands slide up to warm themselves under Jeongyeon’s shirt, hiding them. Her cold hands make Jeongyeon flinch, but she places her own over Nayeon’s when she tries to pull them away.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Jeongyeon says.

Nayeon nods and scoots closer to Jeongyeon. “Sorry I’m so rude,” she laughs, only a hint of bitterness in her tone.

“Me too. In case you didn’t know, I had a giant crush on you, so I was kind of a monster,” admits Jeongyeon, embarrassed. Or, as embarrassed as you can be with said crush tangled in your lap.

“I’m going to kiss you again,” says Nayeon, looking up through her eyelashes with a broad grin.

It’s not a question, but Jeongyeon answers by pulling her close. Nayeon laughs against her lips, and Jeongyeon thinks she could get used to this.

 

•

 

It’s Dahyun who eventually breaks the ice, and Nayeon is beginning to think that might be her greatest skill.

_Kim Dahyun — Strengths: gift of levity, shameless. Weaknesses: difficult to get her to be serious, unfocused._

She and Jeongyeon have been dancing around each other for weeks, at least in public. She doesn’t know why they’ve been so reluctant to tell anyone, especially since Mina already knew about her feelings — the pointed looks Mina gave her when she and Jeongyeon bickered over lunch were a little thrilling, knowing that she had just made out with Jeongyeon against the sink in the bathroom of the sushi place when they were waiting for Sana and Mina to arrive — but there was something to be said for a little privacy.

It was better, Nayeon felt, if it was something just the two of them held close to their chests. It would last longer that way until she ruined it.

What helped was Momo, funnily enough, and the looming deadline of the end of the semester. It’s a little petty, but every time Nayeon can link her pinky with Jeongyeon’s or give her butt a pinch behind Momo’s back feels like a win, even if she knows that Momo and Jeongyeon were never actually a thing.

(Jeongyeon had made fun of her for three days straight when Nayeon finally admitted that she _was_ jealous of Momo, just not for the reasons she thought. “Excuse me if I thought you were having sex with her!” Nayeon had pouted, and she thought Jeongyeon might never let her live it down. At least until she stopped laughing long enough to let Nayeon experience what she thought Momo had been getting all along. _That_ was pretty convincing, in the way that two orgasms in a row often are.)

So she doubled down on the Momo Protection Project, if only to impress her psychology advisor and finish what she started.

Jeongyeon had sort of pulled away from the “help” part of things, and Nayeon couldn’t blame her; the stress of her journalism deadline plus her very real living arrangement deadline could definitely wear a person down. Nayeon had always done the work on her breakups by herself, anyway, so this was no different.

Another of Momo’s dance classes came and went, Wonho in attendance as well this time, and Nayeon watched him watch his own appearance in the mirror for the full hour. He was focused, that was for sure, and actually quite the talented dancer, but dear God, Momo was right there. The whole time! Not even a cursory glance was thrown her way, Nayeon had logged in her journal, appalled. She was beginning to see why this had seemed so hopeless at the start.

Luckily Nayeon had Sana-as-known-through-Mina to rely on for Insider Momo Knowledge.

Sana was sitting cross-legged in her shared living area with Mina, the two of them staring determinedly out at the array of papers around them like they were performing a seance to summon the powers of A students past. Nayeon had let herself into Mina’s apartment, only to find the two of them poring over Sana’s classwork.

“Really, Sana, you pick three weeks before finals to start trying to organize your classwork?” Mina sighed, picking up a paper at random. “This one isn’t even for your Primary Education class. This just says ‘Momo’ over and over in different fonts.”

Radish red, Sana had screeched, “That is definitely classwork! But I will put it in this pile over here! Thanks!”

Nayeon laughed, and the two of them looked up at her, Sana groaning in agony and Mina with an easy smile. “Hello, ladies.”

“I don’t remember giving you a key,” Mina had chastised.

Nayeon countered, “You must not remember locking the door, since you didn’t do that either. Now what’s all this about Momo?”

Sana covered her face with papers, whining, “Leave me here to die.” Very sweet, and very impassioned, Nayeon thought.

_Minatozaki Sana — Strengths: sweet, adaptable, devoted. Weaknesses: emotionally turbulent, disorganized._

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Mina scorned, collecting Sana’s papers. “She’s just in love,” Mina added for Nayeon’s benefit.

Grinning, Nayeon had replied, “Oh, really?” and that opened the floodgates.

That’s partially how Nayeon finds herself in a clingy sequin dress draped across Jihyo’s dorm-advisor-chic couch after this particular Friday’s karaoke outing, trying to divide her attention evenly between gazing longingly at Jeongyeon in a semi-sheer top and those blessed thigh-high boots chatting with Jihyo in the kitchen, and Sana and Momo cuddling together in one armchair, playing a finger game Nayeon hadn’t seen since primary school. The night’s soju is wearing off, and it’s nearly four in the morning. Nayeon takes a quick head count and finds that there are somehow nine girls in this tiny university-sponsored dorm.

Dahyun asks loudly, “Jihyo, you live here for free?” It surprisingly captures Nayeon’s thought process, and while it is almost certainly coincidental, Nayeon is appreciative nonetheless.

“Yes,” Jihyo replies, unsure of the context. She and Jeongyeon take a seat on the couch, and Nayeon wiggles over to make room.

“They’re ripping you off,” Dahyun declares, and half the room bursts out laughing, Tzuyu, Chaeyoung, and Dahyun loudest of all.

Chaeyoung is the first to recover, wiping her eyes. “We might look like angels, but we know we’re demons to look after. You are not being fairly compensated,” she giggles. Mina smiles at her, bemused, and hands her the glass of water she’s been working on for the past thirty minutes.

Jihyo shakes her head and smiles. “Don’t be silly. I love you girls. Who else would make my jobs as fun?”

_Park Jihyo — Strengths: responsible, thoughtful, determined. Weaknesses: puts too much on her plate, intimidating._

“I still can’t believe you work two jobs _and_ study two subjects. Open your hatch, Jihyo-ya, I know you’re a robot!” Momo demands, Sana covering her mouth with a hand to muffle Momo’s fervent accusation. Momo’s tongue wipes wetly across the palm of Sana’s hand, who promptly shrieks in disgust and wipes it off on Momo’s trendy too-big jeans. She looks endeared anyway.

Nayeon looks up from her upside-down position on the cushions to find Jeongyeon smiling down at her, and she reciprocates with a shy smile of her own. Jeongyeon rests a hand on Nayeon’s lower belly casually, and a feeling that’s a little bit comforted and a little bit turned on flutters into her stomach at the possessive gesture. Biting her lip, Nayeon wiggles her hips under Jeongyeon’s touch and hopes to follow through later.

She says nothing, preferring to let Jihyo defend herself passionately against the argument that she’s anything but human. It’s barely working, though, especially after the point she made about rescuing a dog from an alley and reading webtoons with it to calm it down after its bath. Jihyo is shockingly coherent after the amount of drinks she consumed over the course of the evening, and Nayeon is kind of feeling convinced of her inhumanity.

“That’s not a secret, though,” Tzuyu’s voice points out after a particularly zealous detail shared by Jihyo is debated across the room.

_Chou Tzuyu — Strengths: poised, mature, sweet. Weaknesses: can come across apathetic or aloof._

“I want to know secrets,” Chaeyoung grins mischievously, closing her eyes and pointing around the room at random. “Everyone has to tell a secret.”

A warning blares in Nayeon’s head, and she feels Jeongyeon’s hand press into her just slightly, clearly feeling the same anxieties. She trusts Jeongyeon now, and she would probably say that she trusts most of the girls in this room, too. What Nayeon doesn’t trust is her own barely-tipsy but very tired brain not to give away every secret she holds in her body at the gentlest prodding.

But she doesn’t count on Jeongyeon cracking under the pressure, or blurting out, “I’ve been trying to break up Momo and her boyfriend.”

Jihyo, Tzuyu, and Sana gasp, and Nayeon wants to sink into the couch and never return. Mina locks eyes with her, and she can tell that Chaeyoung is looking straight at her, too. Her jaw clenches.

Jeongyeon continues in one breath, “You’re just so wonderful, Momo, you’re my best friend, and I know it’s not my place to say it, but he just is not right for you, so I thought I could do something about it. Maybe find you someone else. Someone better. I’m so sorry.” Nayeon grips Jeongyeon’s hand tight, and her chest feels tight too.

Sana, bless her, seems furious. “Unnie! How could you? Momo can make her own decisions, and if she’s happy with him who are we to get in the way of that!” she grits out, voice sharp and indignant. If her eyes were daggers, Jeongyeon would be dead. Sana is a cute friend, but if she kills Jeongyeon there will be hell to pay.

Jeongyeon and Sana argue heatedly for a little while until a strange sound cuts through the tense air. Nayeon sits up properly, looking around, only to see Momo laughing hysterically on the arm of the chair she’s sharing with Sana. Sana turns her head, looking confused, face red from anger fading back to its usual porcelain. Jeongyeon still looks ashamed, and the other girls are practically hanging on the edge of their seats. Gossips, all of them, Nayeon thinks affectionately.

“Momo-ya?” Sana asks uneasily.

“You idiots,” Momo gets out between peals of laughter. “Is that why you’ve been acting so weird, Jeongyeonnie?”

The silence is deafening, and Momo laughs again, softer.

Jihyo says bravely, “What am I missing?” Maybe she is inhuman, because Nayeon sure as hell wouldn’t have dared.

“I broke up with Wonho like two weeks ago!”

Nayeon could fall on the floor. She grips Jeongyeon’s thigh for stability and says, “Hold on. You’re telling me your ex-boyfriend took your dance class just this last weekend?”

Dahyun and Sana stare at Nayeon, then at Momo. Nothing is piecing together, and Nayeon feels like maybe she’s still drunk and this is a drunk dream and she’ll wake up and be a normal student at a normal university with normal friends. But alas.

Momo shrugs. “We’re friendly,” she says, because of course they are. Momo must be a fucking saint. “I think one of his friends told him that a semester is not long enough to know someone before moving in with them, and the more I thought about it the more I agreed. We’re just on different life paths. Plus…” she pauses, biting her lip shyly. “I kind of figured out that I had feelings for someone else. He understood, and wishes me luck!”

Nayeon can practically feel the neurons in Sana’s brain firing on all cylinders, and she might have to call campus emergency services if Sana passes out from too much information. Her phone is in her purse in the kitchen, she thinks, not nearly helpful enough.

“Who?” Tzuyu asks excitedly, and Momo blushes.

“No fucking way,” Jeongyeon says suddenly, and does fall on the floor, laughing too.

Frustrated, Sana says, “What am I missing?”

Momo whispers something in her ear and Sana’s cheeks go pink like a radish again. She ekes out a little, “Oh,” and lets Momo kiss one corner of her mouth, then the other.

Dahyun pumps her fist in the air, yelling indiscriminately until Jihyo tells her to quiet down because students on their floor are sleeping. She whisper-yells instead, jumping around the room with Chaeyoung.

Nayeon can’t help it; she gets on the floor, throws her arms around Jeongyeon and kisses her full on the mouth. Jeongyeon laughs into the kiss, legs wrapping around Nayeon’s waist and pulling her in closer.

“I’m in a dress!” Nayeon complains, nipping at Jeongyeon’s bottom lip gently.

“Well, whose fault is that?” Jeongyeon murmurs against Nayeon’s mouth, pressing deliciously into the kiss and against Nayeon’s hips.

“Do I have any friends who aren’t hopeless lesbians?” Jihyo asks, voice exasperated but fond.

Tzuyu shrugs, and Mina laughs, and Nayeon thinks maybe everything is as it should be, weaknesses and all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading my first twice fic!! i love these girls and i hope i did them justice????
> 
> feel free to yell at me on [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/jeongyeunnie/) and [curiouscat](http://www.curiouscat.me/pixiepower/)!

**Author's Note:**

> idol mentions: wonho from monsta x, jennie from blackpink, bambam from got7, and of course my karaoke darlings dk and seungkwan from seventeen.
> 
> stay tuned for the next installment!! thanks for reading!
> 
> catch me on [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/jeongyeunnie/) and [curiouscat](http://www.curiouscat.me/pixiepower/)!


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